


Winter Roses

by Avaxius



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drama, F/M, One-Shot, Romance, Seventh-year AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:55:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28297878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avaxius/pseuds/Avaxius
Summary: Heartfelt cups of hot chocolate and informative walks out in the cold, mixed in with a side of conflicting feelings and a dash of winter roses. H/Hr, Romance and Drama, one-shot. Seventh-year AU.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Harry Potter, Hr/H
Comments: 4
Kudos: 54
Collections: Christmas With Harmony 2020





	Winter Roses

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
> 
> Another one-shot for you all…hope you enjoy. This was my entry for the HMS Harmony's XmasWithHHR challenge.
> 
> I can smell another chapter of Respective Counterparts coming your way, along with the prologue of another story I've been working on…stay tuned :)
> 
> Now, onto the story.

* * *

**~ooOOooOOOooOOoo~**

* * *

It was late.

The quiet hour of the night, combined with the _stillness_ which had befallen everything except her thoughts, gave Hermione the impression that nature itself was at rest. Her ears were blanketed in comforting silence, broken only by the scratching of her quill on her parchment and the crackle of the fire burning low in the hearth.

Normally, such an atmosphere would have made Hermione retreat to the warmth of her bed, curling up with a good romance book and Crookshanks' furry body under her free hand. However, the pressures of NEWTs – along with the responsibilities of Head Girl – resulted in the seventh-year staying up into the wee hours of the morning, in a vain attempt at cramming as much information as possible.

Tonight, sequestered before an oaken table in the Head's Common Room, the bushy-haired girl was trying and largely failing to perform basic Arithmancy calculations.

Calculations that Professor Vector had assigned to her Advanced Arithmancy class as a 'fun, end-of-term puzzle' that were 'almost definitely above their skill level'.

Hermione was never one to back down from a challenge.

"Carry the _Ahwaz,_ apply Penrose's theorem…divide by two and— no, multiply by three…" she muttered, brows furrowed deeply, scratching out her workings once again. The neat writing that was her homework had long been reduced to something that could only vaguely be referred to as 'legible'.

When her runic matrix failed to align for the tenth time that night, Hermione growled in frustration. She scrunched up the ruined piece of parchment and discarded it to the ever-growing mound of foiled calculations.

"Stupid runic matrix!" she wanted to scream, but, given it was nearing three in the morning, Hermione settled for whispering harshly. It didn't have as much of a cathartic effect, however. "I've checked all the alignments—"

A throat cleared itself from behind her.

"—applied all the correct theorems and principles—"

The owner of the voice tried again, clearing their throat louder.

"—and this damn matrix _won't_ _bloody align—"_

"Hermione." A hand, callused yet gentle, closed on her shoulder, bringing her back to reality. "Easy there, love. Take a few breaths."

Hermione stopped, breathing heavily, and closed her eyes.

After a few seconds of peaceful silence, she sighed. "Why are you up, Harry?"

"Couldn't sleep. How about you?"

Hermione opened her eyes and threw her arm out, gesturing to the alarmingly numerous mounds of parchment which surrounded her workstation. "Oh, I'm just trying to finish this assignment. And I'm almost done, too — I think I just need a few more minutes—"

"What _I_ think," Harry interrupted, removing his hand from her shoulder, "is that you need to get some sleep. It's, what—" a silent flick of his wrist; the blue glow of the Tempus charm displaying the time hovering in the air— "four 'o'clock in the morning. Merlin, it's _Christmas eve_ tomorrow. This is pushing it, even for you, Hermione."

She instantly missed the warmth, but quickly squashed this thought. _That_ mental path was dangerous territory.

Waving a hand dismissively, Hermione tried to pull another, clean sheet of parchment towards her to restart her homework. "Yes, well, I'll go to sleep soon. I'm so close to finishing."

Harry cleared a half-metre-tall pile of ruined parchment and plopped himself into the couch next to her, a mischievous gleam in his eye.

"Finishing, you say?"

Hermione looked at him oddly.

He gave her a cheeky grin, waggling his eyebrows.

"Oh, you—" Her cheeks flamed and Hermione buried her face in her hands. Harry let out a hoot of laughter. "I'm very close to finishing _this homework,_ you dirty-minded prat. Nothing else."

"I find myself sceptical," he drawled, leaning back and crossing his arms.

Harry became the recipient of an acidic glare. Many had quivered before it — more often than not students in the younger years — but it had no effect on him, to Hermione's annoyance.

"Go to bed, Harry," Hermione sighed, ignoring how hypocritical she was sounding.

"Alright, sure," Harry hummed. Hermione was surprised — on some level, she had expected that he would resist. "Yours or mine?"

"Harry Potter!"

Harry, cackling, quickly leaned out of range before Hermione's slap landed on his shoulder. She was severely tempted to draw her wand and curse him, for Merlin's sake, but just about held back.

"Come to bed, Hermione, you'll burn yourself out," he said, sobering somewhat. At the last moment, he chickened out of saying _with me._

She hesitated. "Just—"

"Ah-ah-ah," Harry spoke over her. "Bed. Now."

"But—"

"Nope."

"Let me—"

He shook his head. "Mm-mm."

"Harry—"

"Resistance is utterly futile, Hermione. You need to sleep."

Hermione pouted. "Fine, you win."

Harry smiled, rising to his feet. He grabbed her hands and brought her into a standing position too.

The two walked together until it was necessary for them to part; for Hermione to enter her room and for Harry to return to his.

"Good night, Hermione," he murmured, staring into her eyes.

"Night, Harry," she whispered in reply, squeezing the hands which she had unconsciously kept hold of this entire time.

The fact that they had somehow gotten closer gave the witch a mental start. She could see the individual flecks in his green orbs, sparkling with something that sent shivers up her spine.

Harry, looking as if he was steeling himself for something, leaned down and pressed a kiss against her cheek.

Hermione's heart stuttered.

He pulled back eventually, but not late enough to see the flustered yet pleased expression on her face. "Sleep well, Hermione."

And with that, Harry turned away fully and retreated down the hallway. She heard his footsteps diminish in volume and his door close with a gentle _click._

As if released from a Leg-Locker Jinx with that simple sound, Hermione fumbled with her doorknob and finally twisted it open. She stepped back into the comfort of her room, feeling a whirlwind of emotions cascade through her.

Hermione let out a shaky breath, managing to stumble the few steps necessary to practically collapse onto her bed. The plush maroon comforter and numerous pillows cushioned her fall, and the furry, orange mass curled up on top of them let out an indignant hiss at the sudden movement.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Crookshanks," she said. "I didn't mean to wake you up."

Her dear kneazle scrunched up his already squashed nose imperiously and padded around in a circle, getting comfortable again.

"What am I going to do, Crooks?" Hermione sighed, massaging his thick fur.

He let out a pleased purr, arching his back into her hand. When she stopped her ministrations, Crookshanks stared at her pointedly, and then at the wall to her right.

Towards Harry's room.

"Okay, fine," Hermione accepted, wearily. "I'll tell him tomorrow."

* * *

**~ooOOooOOOooOOoo~**

* * *

"Hey, look, it's Hermione!"

"'Ermione!"

"The one—"

"—the only—"

"—brightest witch—"

"—best pitch—"

"—smartest bi—"

"Don't you dare!"

"Her—"

"—mi—"

"Oh, my knee is hurting rather badly," Harry piped up, inordinately amused.

"—oh—"

—ne!"

"Doth mine eyes deceive me, Gred?"

"Thine eyes of yours doth not deceive you, Forge!"

"Eyes of mine, Fred, doth tell me that our favourite people here are on a da—"

"Wait, wait, wait — I'm George, and you're Fred, right?"

"Was your breakfast spiked, Fred? I'm George!"

"Are you alright? I'm pretty sure that _I'm_ George, and _you_ are—"

"I'm not entirely sure which redhead is Fred and which is George," Harry mused to Hermione, rubbing a gloved hand against his chin.

"Oh, for the love of Merlin, _stop it!"_

They grinned at her, completely incorrigible. Hermione's wand arm twitched.

Bloody prats. It was far too early in the morning for her to deal with this.

Harry had a supremely amused look on his face. "Good morning, Fred, George."

"Harrykins!" the twins exclaimed simultaneously, each taking one of his hands and shaking it enthusiastically. "How are you?"

"I'm good, thank you," he replied, returning their handshakes heartily. "And you? How is the store doing?"

The redhead on the left exhaled in a satisfied manner — Fred, probably, but with the twins, one couldn't be sure of anything — his breath misting in the cold air. "Business is booming! Sales are at an all-time high, so much so that we were planning on opening a second branch of Weasley Wizard Wheezes here, in Hogsmeade."

"Just what we need," Hermione grumbled, crossing her arms. She was annoyed by the twin's and Harry's antics, which had not changed one bit in the two years that they had been away from Hogwarts, though Harry had cut down somewhat since the two jokesters' departure. "More of those blasted _pranks._ This will be a nightmare for the prefects and the staff…"

On some level, though, she was grateful for them. The war, which had ended at the climax of their sixth year, still held a tight grip on the local population. They had come very close to losing the conflict…if Mad-Eye Moody hadn't sacrificed himself in the final push against Voldemort's forces…

She shook her head, returning to present as Fred and George started doing…Fred and George things.

"Hey, Fred?"

"Yes, George?"

"Do you know why our dear Hermione over here looks like someone just intruded on her reading time?"

"I don't know, Fred. Why is Hermionekins so down in the dumps?"

"Do _not_ call me—"

"Ah, I know!" George flicked his wand and an _actual lightbulb_ popped into existence, hovering over his head. It lit up with a _ping._ "We interrupted."

"Say, what did we interrupt?"

One twin looked at the other and _winked._

"Oh! No, you don't think—"

"—I _do_ think, in fact—"

"—Really? Well, we'd better leave, because Hermione—"

"—looks like she's about to blow her top. Literally."

"What a sight that would be—"

"—for Harry, in particular—"

"So help me Merlin that I don't hex you _both_ — and you, Harry! — into _non-existence—"_

Harry let out a loud belly laugh, doubling over at the waist.

"Cheerio—"

"—Harry James Potter—"

"—Hermione Jane Pott— er, Granger—"

"—HJP and HJP—"

"—honestly, Forge, it's HJP and _HJG,_ but I'll admit yours has much more ring to it—"

"Agreed, Gred. HJP and HJP it is!"

With that, the two twins linked arms and skipped away, sending greetings to the Hogsmeade locals and occasionally whipping out Christmas-themed fireworks from their pockets, propelling them high into the frosty sky.

Hermione huffed; cheeks stained red from something that was decidedly _not_ the cold and turned to Harry. He was still wearing that amused expression, the bastard.

"Hot chocolate?" he suggested, out of the blue.

"Oh, Merlin yes please!" The words tumbled incoherently out of her mouth before an in-dire-need-of-a-hot-drink Hermione had a chance to hold them back. "You're so thoughtful."

And then, quietly—

"Oh, I could just kiss you, Harry."

He had heard her.

"Why don't you?" Harry said in reply, simply, becoming serious as Hermione instantly wished the ground would rise up and swallow her on the spot. _That_ was a surprise…

Harry didn't like her like _that,_ did he? He saw her as a sister.

Right?

She bought herself some time by glancing at something to their left. "Oh, look…"

There, surrounded by a black wooden fence that had long since moulded past structural stability, was a bed of roses. Though the ground around the fence was covered in a thick blanket of snow, the rose garden had somehow been spared.

Magic was probably at play here.

Their mocha-brown stems rose up to form elegant, snow-crested cups; wine-red petals reflecting the wintry sunlight with mesmerizing twinkles of frozen water.

"Winter roses…" said Harry quietly, whispering directly into Hermione's ear. She shivered at his sudden proximity. "Beautiful, all year round. Regardless of the environment. Much like someone I know…"

Hermione's breath caught when Harry reached up and gently pushed her thick woollen hat slightly to the side. He tucked the head of a rose into the revealed caramel brown tresses; the plant's thorns (thankfully) removed.

"Now," he continued, looking nervous all of a sudden. "Would you, uh—"

She couldn't take it anymore.

Spinning on the spot, Hermione slid her arms around his neck and meshed his lips against hers.

From some distance away, Fred peered at Harry and Hermione through a pair of Omnioculars, holding the listening end of an Extendable Ear to his ear.

"Did it work, Fred?

"Indeed, George. Take a look for yourself if you don't believe me."

Fred handed George the Omnioculars.

"Ah! Merlin's saggy left nutsack, George, you could have told me that they were trying to swallow each other's tongues!"

* * *

**~ooOOooOOOooOOoo~**

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> Well, there you go. I hope you enjoyed it. Stay tuned for more updates. :)
> 
> Wish you all a very Merry Christmas. Stay safe.
> 
> Avaxius


End file.
